


Flewed Out.

by misslucyfierce



Category: Mayans M.C. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25590853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyfierce/pseuds/misslucyfierce
Summary: Chapter 1: The Descent.Author’s Notes/Comments/Concerns/Requests for Prayer: So, this idea came from my new favorite song - Flewed Out by City Girls feat. Lil Baby. This will be a short series. It will be filthy. I will also note that this Miguel is what I envision him as a modern narco. If you want to discuss this AU, please hit me up, because I love a dark!Miguel and we’re def. about to get real dark, frands. Enjoy, loves!
Relationships: Miguel Galindo/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1: The Descent. 
> 
> Author’s Notes/Comments/Concerns/Requests for Prayer: So, this idea came from my new favorite song - Flewed Out by City Girls feat. Lil Baby. This will be a short series. It will be filthy. I will also note that this Miguel is what I envision him as a modern narco. If you want to discuss this AU, please hit me up, because I love a dark!Miguel and we’re def. about to get real dark, frands. Enjoy, loves!

“Welcome aboard, ------. May I take your bag?” The stewardess’s voice was sticky sweet as she shadowed the plane’s entry way. 

“I’m fine. Thanks.” You sank onto the leather couch - exhaustion creeping in. Miguel had texted you late Friday - giving you just an hour to pack a bag and be ready for your private pick-up. You should have been prepared. It was almost two weeks from your last jet-set, and Miguel never went more than ten days without seeing you - an unspoken pattern that stayed true week after week. 

“Miss?” The silver tray streaked rainbows across the airborne plane. “Your regular.” 

A soft smile crept across your face - a sleep mask, an Ambien, and a shot of tequila was your prescription for a restful plane ride. Miguel preferred when you arrived in exquisite form. The tequila left a familiar burn in your throat. It tasted like Miguel. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------  
The sheets were cool against your skin as you slid into the bed - the clouds drifting by the lengthy window as the plane soared through the sky. You were living in a literal dream - flying on cloud 9, waiting for El Diablo to pull you from the heavens and bring you to hell. 

The cotton sleep mask blackened the room as you wrapped yourself in the fluffy duvet. You inhaled deeply - breathing in the expensive laundry detergent that smelled like Miguel - your heart fluttering at the thought of his arms in a few short hours.   
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
The hot water melted the nap fatigue that wore heavy on your body as you turned in the shower - your skin scorching under the assault. The loofah raked your skin - leaving your skin tingling as the soap slid in a bubbled trail over your soft hips. The steam billowed through the tiny bathroom - filling the air in a haze as your thoughts drifted to Miguel and the sinful acts you so willingly committed in the name of lust. 

Miguel was wild and wonderful - a drug with mind-numbing overdoses and heart-breaking withdrawals, but you couldn’t stay away. He lured you with filthy text messages and explicit FaceTime calls - your fingers between your legs as he told you what to do, his own hand wrapped around himself - jerking to the sounds of your moans and sight of your wet pussy. 

He used bait - expensive bait. Designer purses, private concerts, and weekends on yachts left you spoiled. Miguel’s money kink bubbling over as he sent flowers weekly that filled your apartment with fragrance - each arrangement designed by Miguel - his feelings written in roses and orchids. 

The water cooled - the reality of 35,000 feet rushing over you as you grabbed the towel - wrapping your dripping body against the air conditioned cabin. Your choice for an all-white outfit would not be lost on Miguel. He preferred you innocent - dressed in lace and satin - his Mary Magdalene. 

————————————————————  
“Maam, excuse me, it is time to take your seat.” The stewardess knocked wearily - a soft rap on the polished wooden door. 

“Thank you. I’ll be right out.” You stared at your reflection in the mirror - tinted lips pouted and bright eyes brought a sly smile as you grabbed your phone and opened your camera. A few poses found your sweet spot - your shoulder raised and head tossed to the side with a coy smile. Finding his message thread, the picture dropped into the bubble - your smiling face and kissy lips delivering your desire to Miguel in whatever meeting he was in. 

You felt the descent of the plane - your body leaning into the plush couch as your phone lit up - his reply waiting in your inbox. 

Your breath caught in your throat - your heart beating in your ears as you stared at the picture on your screen. The Mexican sun bronzed his skin - a literal golden god. He was reclined in a sun chair - his pretty and perfect dick standing hard and angry with two little words captioning his work of art. 

“Daddy’s waiting.”


	2. Lust.

“How have you been?” The question cut the silence sharply. 

Nestor gazed at you in the rearview mirror - a slight smile creasing his face as he turned onto the freeway. 

“I’ve been good - busy. You?” The response was gray - blanketing the truth. 

“Okay.” Your response more vague - leaving the air heavy with secrets. “How has he been?” 

“Ahm,” Nestor grunted, shifting in his seat, your forwardness surprising him, “He’s, he’s been good - busy.” Another gray answer. 

“I’m sure.” Your response was flat. Silence creeping back in and the questions disappearing.   
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The SUV slowed - approaching the gilded gate framed by hulking guards. 

The curved drive brought the desert horizon into view - the sky dipped in pink as the sun sank. The views always took your breath away - serene desert stretching for miles and Miguel had built his own oasis - a castle in the sand. 

“He’s in a meeting. He said wait for him in the bedroom. I’ll bring your things.” Nestor circled to the trunk - surveying your luggage as the front door opened, as if on cue, with another guard to greet you.   
“Thank you.” You didn’t need to be shown around - this felt like home. You picked out the art in the foyer and the rugs in the hallway. The house was sprinkled with your flavor - Miguel’s favorite taste. 

\-----------------------------------------

“Thank you, Nestor. Will you at least tell him I am here?” Your voice intentionally soft, sweetening your request. 

“Yeah, Sure.” Nestor bowed out, closing the door gently behind him. 

Miguel’s bedroom could be a small apartment in most cities - a divided studio for the master of the house. As if on routine, you found a gift bag on the edge of the bed - an outfit of desire. There was always an outfit - something he saw and thought of you. You’ve been a school girl, covered in leather, and draped in silk - his tastes always changing - turning you into a kaleidoscope, taking the shape of all his fantasies. 

You held the garment against you - a black lace bodysuit. You’ve worn more outrageous outfits, but something about the simple lace made your pussy ache when you thought of Miguel’s reaction. The lace felt soft against your skin as you studied your reflection in the mirror. Your tattoos peeking from underneath the intricate designs of the woven fabric. 

The heavy steps in the hallway brought your attention to the door - your breath catching as he walked in - his Adonis form standing before you. This face of impassivity broke as his eyes ran over your frame - no attempt made to hide his assessment of you as he moved closer, pushing you back onto the bed. 

“Mami.” A lone finger trailed your collarbone - goosebumps prickling your skin at each new touch. You leaned into him, pressing your breasts against him - his muscles rippling at the contact. Your bright eyes found his - matching his gaze with intensity. The brat wanted to tease, but the princess wanted to cuddle, and as your hands trailed down his Oxford shirt, the brat won - your manicured fingers deftly loosening his belt as your hand slid down, palming him through his boxers, feeling his dick twitch in your hand. 

The brat won as you dropped to your knees - his heavy dick popping as his pants slid to the floor. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him standing above you - his chest quickly rising and falling as you kneeled in front of him so willingly. 

The moan from Miguel earned from gagging on him was worth the burn deep in your throat. As you pulled back, strings of saliva stretched between you. “Look at me.” Your hand slid around him - rubbing the precum over his tip with the pad of your thumb. 

His eyes fluttered open as he watched you envelope his sack in your mouth - pulling softly, releasing with a pop - your hand still wrapped tightly, sliding in a rhythm of up and down. “Fuck. Did you miss this dick, querida?” His fingers gripped your hair as he pushed in further - your gag tightening around his throbbing member. Your hand dropped between your thighs, wet for some type of friction. Your fingers rubbed your throbbing clit as you flattened your tongue - feeling each ridge of his throbbing dick as you suctioned him in your lips. 

“This get you off? Choking on my dick as you fuck yourself?” His words were punctuated by a harsh thrust that left your eyes watering as you choked, gasping for air. “Get up.” He moved your body for you - his biceps flexing as he pushed you to the bed - your breasts bouncing as you fell against the mattress. 

Miguel stood, pulling his lip between his teeth, as he drank in your shapely form. 

“Did she miss me?” His finger slid tauntingly over your laced-covered slit. “I think she did.” He mocked as you rubbed against him - seeking more than a touch. “Why not give her what she wants?” A lone finger slid passed the lace - a moan slipping as your pussy clenched around him. 

The sharp knocks on the door stilled his now two fingers inside of you. 

“Miguel. It’s the burner.” Nestor’s even voice cooled the air. Daddy disappeared as Miguel stood. 

“Wait.” Your voice was a squeak, trembling from the edge of pleasure. You grabbed his hand, sliding his two fingers in your mouth, sliding your tongue over your essence while Miguel watched the erotic sight. 

Miguel bent and dressed quickly. A reluctant silence blanketed the room. 

As he reached for the door knob, he glanced back - “Don’t touch yourself, amor.”


	3. Greed.

You stretched like a cat - your arms and legs extended as you let the plush comforter fall to the floor. Fingers of sunlight broke through the drawn curtains as you sat up - jet lag setting in as you rubbed your eyes weakly. 

“You’re up.” Miguel’s deep voice sounded like a song to your ears. Your sleepy eyes opened wide to gaze at him, still dripping and wrapped in a towel and you felt your swollen pussy clench at the evidence of his print underneath the loosely wrapped garment. 

“Get up. We’re going to the desert today.” Miguel dropped the towel shamelessly - his thick member resting against his thigh as he sauntered into his closet. “Bring extra clothes, because I don’t want to hear your spoiled ass complain if something gets dirty.” His command did little to move you from your snuggled position. Miguel had returned late last night and spent the twilight hours reminding you how much he missed you and your pussy. 

“Really?” Miguel emerged - casually dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt, adorned with gold jewelry - bracelets, rings, and a Cuban link chain glittering in the morning rays. “Get ya ass up. I’ll have your breakfast waiting.” He roughly jerked the remaining blankets - exposing your naked body to the cool air. 

“Oh, and wear something I like.” His request was punctuated with a kiss as he left you to sulk in your sleepy state. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You turned in the large SUV, stretching your legs across Miguel’s thighs, flexing your pedicured toes against his abs. “Do you need something, amor?” His free hand pressed into your arch - pushing against the tight muscle - as he continued to read the financial report in his hand. 

Your pussy was throbbing - weeks of missing your lover left you wanton and Miguel’s attention to business left you pouting and bratty. “Hm, what do you want?” His fingers danced across your exposed thigh - leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your pussy spoke for you - grabbing his hand and pulling it to your core, rubbing against his hand - “I want you.” You whined, drawing out the u as you held his wrist tight. 

Miguel’s dark laugh filled the tiny space - his dark eyes piercing your resolve as you slowed your hips, freezing against his palm. “Oh mama, do you need it?” He teased as he shifted the paperwork in his lap, slipping the distraction into his bag. You rolled your bottom lip through your teeth as you watched Miguel turn, opening his body to you - “Come here.” His spread legs left his jeans pulled tight - his growing bulge becoming noticeable. 

His lips met yours as you moved closer into his spread legs- his tongue sliding around yours, pulling you to him. His hands roamed your body - palming your breasts through your tank top as he bit your lip, bringing a moan from your mouth.   
“Turn around.” Daddy was here - his voice dropping as he pulled back - his onyx eyes glazed with lust. You smiled - drunk on knowing that Daddy would take care of you. Your back pressed against his muscular chest, - his gold chains cool against your back as your head lazed against his shoulder. “You’ve been such a good girl.” His words mumbled, onto your skin, slid down your neck and straight to your pussy. You felt your lips wet at his compliment - the determination to be a good girl wrecking your attitude. 

His teeth scraped against your skin, pressing into your skin with such a sensual burn, as his hand slid into your tank top, tweaking a nipple between his long fingers. Your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into his body, leaning against him, feeling his chest rise and fall with yours as his hand slid over your shorts, cupping your mound. “Please. I behaved.” Your fingers worked quickly, pushing your shorts down, as Miguel chuckled - his breath hot against your ear. 

“Oh mami. I missed you.” The admission was a whisper. Your eyes fluttered open as he turned your chin up - your eyes meeting as he bent low - kissing your forehead with a softness that was new. His hand creeped up your side - your body twisting as he tickled - until it rested against your breast, massaging the soft flesh. His hand slid into your shorts - rubbing your clit through your panties - the friction of the panties against your clit relaxing your body. 

“Daddy. Touch me. I need it.” You raised your hips - rubbing yourself against his fingers, begging to be filled. “How many do you want?” His lips suctioned to your neck, nipping and sucking, as he peaked your nipple into a harden bud - each sense overwhelming another. 

“Daddy. Two. Just do it.” You were breathless. Your panties wet from his tease, drawing out your pleasure for the ultimate release. When Miguel rewarded you, he did it right. He left you greedy for his praise. He rubbed his nose against the shell of your ear as he slid two fingers through your wet lips. His body tensing at the warmness of you. “Oh fuck.” You pushed yourself down - his fingers disappearing in your tight pussy as you pressed your head against his shoulder - clinging to stability. His fingers curled into you - digging into your soft walls as you rolled your hips. As his fingers scissored you, your hips rolled sharply - fucking yourself on his digits. 

The sounds of your gushing pussy and your soft moans filled the tight space. The erotic sounds ringing in your ears. “Can I give you one more? You feel so good, baby. Let me fill you up with one more.” He didn’t wait for permission as he pushed a third finger into your dripping slit. “Fuck, Daddy. It’s too tight.” Your body was limp against him as he curled his fingers, calling your orgasm. 

“Oh my god. Don’t stop, don’t stop.” You begged as your thighs fell loose - your muscles weak with pleasure. Miguel’s heavy hand held your neck, possessively, owning your body in the moment as his palm pushed against your aching clit with each thrust. “Daddy won’t stop. You deserve to cum. I’ll let my pussy cum.” Even in the most intimate moment, he reminded you who you belonged to as the squelching noise of your swollen lips echoed through the car. In another lifetime, you’d be mortified to be heard, but in this moment, you felt protected - shielded from judgement and taken care - Miguel never letting you forget that the thirst was mutual.   
Your head rolled into the crook of his neck as you whimpered, “That’s the spot, isn’t it? Yeah, Daddy knows. Come on, baby girl.” Miguel started at his fingers as your pussy twitched - gripping his fingers as you creamed around his digits, your body dissolving into euphoria as he continued his assault on your throbbing pussy. 

Your knees shut - trapping his arm against you - as you tried to slip away from him before you lost yourself completely, but Miguel was greedy and you knew better. His fingers tightened around your throat- feeling your pulse thump under his long fingers. “Ah, don’t do it. Don’t keep it.” His kisses dotted your raised cheek as he rubbed slowly - building you back up with each twirl of his thumb over your pulsing clit. “Good girls want to come for Daddy. Your pussy loves it. Look at her.” He pushed your head, making you watch the erotic show before you - tears pricked your eyes as you gushed - betrayed by your pussy who craved Miguel’s expert touch. 

You cried, tears slipping passed your squinted eyes, as Miguel pulled away from you - your walls pulsing at the loss of fullness. He smugly licked them - moaning at your taste. “Dulce. I could eat you all day.” His eyes were hooded as he kissed you sloppily - making you savor yourself. You nuzzled yourself into his frame - your muscles tingly from the high. You felt your heartbeat in your ears as your breathing slowed - your senses filled with Miguel. 

“Here, raise up.” He pulled your shorts up - your pussy dripping as he slid your panties over your swollen mound. “You can change when we get to the house.” He whispered as he pulled a blanket over your curled body as you sank deeper into his hold. You breathing slowed as he caressed your back - the air simmering as quiet settled in. 

“I love you, Daddy.” The words tumbled out as you scooted low - your head laying in his lap as your eyes felt heavy with sleep. His eyes grew wide, grateful you weren’t staring at him - his cool resolve melted by your admission. He smiled weakily, adjusting his mask of indifference - “No, your pussy loves me, baby girl.” His hand rubbed your thigh as you nodded in agreement - your spoken truth already forgotten.

Miguel slipped the quarterly financial reports from his bag as you laid curled on his lap and his mind couldn’t focus - the numbers dancing and his ears ringing with your voice. For once, he was greedy for something else - something only you had - love.


	4. Wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter features descriptions of modern cartel violence. It is based on a true event. Mentions of murder, immolation and dismemberment are present. Please read with caution. This chapter is 18+.

The SUV slowed, approaching a tall gate and guard lined driveway, and with a simple nod, the gate opened and Nestor drove into the protected compound. Paco offered his hand as you slid from the raised truck - your feet raising dust as your sandals slapped against the packed dirt. 

“I’ll only be a little bit. Paco will take care of you.” The pad of his thumb caressed the apple of your cheek. Meeting his gaze sent a shiver down your spine - he looked at you so softly despite the jagged reality you were surrounded by. Leaning into him, your arms slid around his waist - your bottom lip pulled through your teeth as you pouted - eking out every moment you were allowed. 

As if on cue, the encircled plaza was suddenly filled with ATVs and quads, dust rising as los sicarios de el diablo creeped in from the desert. He visibly changed - pulling away as masked men surrounded him - a chorus of praises and greetings for el jefe. 

“Paco, por favor…” Miguel didn’t need to finish his request as you were shuffled towards the out-of-place oasis in the desert. You went willingly - praying that a good girl would be rewarded soon.   
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Stop staring at her, pendejos.” Miguel lit a blunt - staring into the barren horizon, knowing they were watching your perfect form disappear into the house. “I’ll pull every eye from every face that wants to fucking stare at her.” He inhaled sharply - the loud quieting his spirit as the sicarios adjusted, turning away from temptation to save themselves. 

“Where are they?” Miguel leaned against the dusted hood of the SUV as the masks were removed, revealing youthful faces creased with lines - marking hard decisions and dangerous choices. “Ten, fifteen minutes out. I didn’t know you were bringing el princesa. I would have kept them in the desert with the coyotes.” The man slid his AR behind him, adjusting the gun strap against his bulletproof vest, as he shifted his weight on his feet. 

“It’s fine. I couldn’t leave her.” Miguel coughed, smoking billowing, as he choked on his admission - the words burnt his throat. His truth left him vulnerable - any of the men surrounding him could be an enemy in a blink of an eye and he just revealed his most prized possession. A rush filled his body - the admission of his feelings, the impending judgement he was about to execute and the potent weed left his blood pumping - adrenaline rushing through him. 

“Vamos.” With a turn, he climbed into the SUV as Nestor followed the pack into Miguel’s waiting kingdom. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The air bubbled as Nestor followed the half-dozen of utility vehicles into the arid horizon. 

“It’s too much,” Miguel mumbled - rubbing his hands over his face, leaning forward in the seat as cool beads of sweat pooled at his hairline. Nestor’s gaze didn’t waver - the intimate moment filling the SUV - his brother was suffocating - the pressure of hell crushing him.   
Nestor remained quiet - letting Miguel’s deep breaths fill the silence - each breath cracking the stillness of the tension. “Why did I bring her? That’s an amateur mistake. They’ve seen her.” Miguel’s head rested in his hands as the air conditioning rolled over his clammy body. “I feel like I’m going to puke and I have to kill these guys. Fuck!” He rose, shouting the expletive as he fell forward, his head hanging low. 

“Mikey,” Nestor’s hand clapped his friend’s shoulder - pulling him out of his own personal hell. “Focus.” Nestor’s steady voice calmed the flames of anxiety as Miguel leaned back into his seat - his body cooling under a gleam of sweat. “They aren’t interested in fucking this up. You take good care of them.” Nestor shook Miguel gently - dusting the doubt off his friend. “You take good care of her too. She will be fine.” Nestor’s quick stare was enough to steel Miguel - his shoulders rolling back as he sat up straighter - a mask of impassivity covering his face. 

The road narrowed as the convoy slowed - a crude fence circling a decrepit barn - a shell of its former self. The anxiety of the moment burnt - smoldering indifference left in its wake as Miguel and Nestor exited the stopped vehicle. 

Sicarios surrounded four kneeled and bound men as Miguel broke into the circle as he lit a blunt - smoke clouded his presence. “Muéstrame. A ver!” Miguel rocked on the balls of his feet as the masked men pulled the bags off the captives - revealing fearful eyes and stone faces. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?” Miguel inhaled, squeaking out his interrogation as he paced in front of the roped men. 

Miguel moved forward, grabbing a fistful of hair, jerking the gaze of the prisoner to his. His gold plated 1911 felt heavy in his hands - symbolic of the weight of the hell he reigned over. He pressed the barrel into the lips of the shaking man, “Open.” Miguel forced the metal into the man’s mouth as the sound of urine filled the silent desert. El Diablo laughed menacingly, “Pobre se.” His tone was vicious as he pulled the trigger - a gleam in his eyes as blood pooled in the sand, gray matter clumping in the dust. 

The traitor to Miguel’s left wretched - falling forward into his own sick as he lost his balance, shaking under stress. “And to think, you could work for me.” The sound of a pierced skull rang through the vast emptiness. Villainous laughter smothered the fear - a conditioned response to the unsaturated violence of Miguel’s judgement. “You’re not los diablitos.” His verdict clear as he delivered another expert shot - the third man dropping as his head leaked - dripping life onto the packed dirt. 

“Pero, for you, a gift.” Miguel slid the gun into his waistband - gesturing for the prize from a waiting Nestor, whose cellphone illuminated the scene - recording the sentencing. Holding the plastic bottle, Miguel pulled the hair of the final man, pouring the alcohol onto his face - the whimpers of the man drowned by the potent burn. “For you, traje fuego.” Miguel’s smirk was sickening as he held the lighter, watching the flames roll over the screaming man’s face. 

The collective breath inhaled - watching the fire strangle the life from the defector. The collective breath exhaled as the bloodlust spread through the crowd - mumbles of commentary rolling from the lips of spectators. 

The air smelled of charred flesh and Miguel chuckled as El Puerca compared the smell to his wife’s carne asada. Their eyes were glazed as the man fell forward - his eye rolling from his head as he collapsed heavy, a wave of dust rising against the smoke. The screams were deafened with each swallow of fire - flames scorching his insides - his charred skin flaking off in the twilight. 

Miguel took the blunt from Nestor, leaning against the dusted hood of the SUV - his vibrating phone jiggling his thigh. Your picture filled the screen - a candid he took on his yacht - your face scrunched with laughter as you lazed against a sun chair. 

He exhaled as the flames collapsed under their own weight - the flesh consumed under the heat of Miguel’s wrath. He accepted your call as he toed the dead body - rolling his burnt head from side to side, admiring his work. “Bebesita,” His voice was even, lighthearted against the murderous tone surrounding him, “No, Daddy didn’t forget about you. I’ll be back soon.” Miguel turned on his heel - gesturing for clean-up to the waiting men. 

Miguel stood with Nestor, watching the dismemberment of each corpse with cultivated indifference as Nestor edited the video with standard features of his infamous torture clips. His narco corrido, the cartel’s stamp, and a grimy filter - all markings of ira del diablo.


	5. Gluttony

“Mami, our reservations are at 8:30. Vamos.” Miguel scrolled through his SnapChat feed - his feet rocking back and forth on the plush carpet - waiting for your appearance. 

“Come here. I need help with my dress.” You relaxed against the table - the cool glass tickling your naked body as you laid stretched. Your legs bent and your breasts thrusted forward - you were sure Miguel would think you were better than any French entree. 

“I can’t wait to see what you…” His voice trailed as he froze in the doorway as his onyx eyes raked over your frame. “Fuck,” He shook his head in amusement, “I’d prefer to eat at home.” He dropped the suit jacket, unbuttoning his shirt with every step, as he stalked you with a predator’s gaze. 

“You look so fucking delicious.” He stood, legs wide, at the top of the table - his tongue rolling over his lips as he rubbed his hands together menacingly. Arousal pulsed through your veins - warming your belly as you leaned, spreading your legs wide as he unbuckled his pants - the belt jingling to the floor. Your own fingers swirled over your clit lazily, wearing a coy smirk as you taunted Miguel, each turn sliding down your slit as you dangerously dipped your fingers into your heat. 

“The fuck are you doing?” His grip surprised you - holding your hand over your swollen clit. “Don’t touch my pussy.” He pulled your hand away - pinning it to the smooth table. Your head lulled back as he spit on you - the erotic act washing over you, leaving your eyes heavy with pleasure. He sank to his knees - his fingers gripping your thighs as he pulled you down - your slit rubbing his nose as he leaned into you, inhaling your scent. The soft kisses against your lips left you panting as you watched him, softly and slowly lick and kiss your outter lips. Your elbows wobbled, no longer able to hold steady, as you watched you Miguel’s tongue slide over your slit - your walls clenching at the thought of him thrusting into them. Your hips jutted forward - your ass squeaking against the glass; your body begging for his affection. 

“Ah,” Two thick fingers slid into you roughly - whimpers falling from your mouth, “Be still. I want to eat my pussy, baby girl. Enjoy Taste it. Love it.” His thumb rubbed your throbbing clit with soft swirls as he kissed your calves - your legs draped over his shoulders as his fingers slowly stroked your velvet walls, each curl calling your orgasm closer. 

“How can I do that if you don’t listen? Hm?” He asked a taunting question as he ground his palm into your swollen nub - your pussy gushing with each hard thrust. “Fuck, Daddy, keep fucking me, please. Please,” Your hands held your breasts - pinching your nipples between your fingers - overwhelming your own body for pleasure. “Look at this shit. Goddamn,.” He pulled back - watching his fingers disappear inside your spread pink lips, “Your pussy is so juicy.” Miguel slowed his thrusts, sinking to his knees once more. 

“Daddy, shit!” His mouth covered your clit, sucking and lapping, as he added a third finger - stuffing your pussy as he stroked you - your walls clenching his digits. “Don’t fucking stop.” Your acrylic nails raked through his jet black hair - your soft tugs sending moans through your body. Miguel’s mouth covered your dripping lips as you rocked against his face. “Papi, shit, my pussy is coming.” You cried as your legs locked behind his head as your nails raked his scalp. 

Miguel’s tongue slid over your glistening lips - sucking each drop of his reward greedily. “Mikey,” His name was a soft whine as you watched him softly kiss your swollen pussy. His eyes glazed with pleasure as he stood - his dick resting heavy against his toned thigh. He cupped your face gently - holding you softly as you floated back down - his tongue dancing with yours - your sweetness flooding your mouth. 

“Ahem,” Paco stood in the doorway - his gaze burned into the floor, “I was coming to remind you of dinner, but I see you, uh, already ate.” He shrugged his shoulders, fumbling his exit, as he slowly backed away. 

Your forehead pressed against his solid shoulder as your hand jerked his throbbing member - his head slick with precum as you kissed his collarbone lightly, nipping the sensitive skin. 

“Now, I’m ready for the next course.”


	6. Pride. (Valentine's Day Celebration)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Valentine's Day celebration featuring Daddy and our favorite sugar baby.

“Mr. Galindo, your floor.” The porter announced. The elevator doors parting to reveal gleaming floors bathed in the city lights - a disco ball dancing in the hallway. 

“Thank you.” The appreciation spoken to you as his eyes raked over you, dark with lust as his hand rested on your low back, pushing you forward. 

“Your floor?” The question was spoken with a giggle - champagne from the car ride bubbling over into your words as you smirked. 

The question was answered wordlessly as he unlocked a gilded set of double doors, opening to an expansive panoramic penthouse - the city twinkling before you. Your eyes followed clean lines - sleek and dark - Miguel as an aesthetic. Your heels marked your steps as you wandered through the open space, divided by fixtures and art - an elegant maze leading you to temptation. 

You froze - finding a center in the living room - the expanse of the city stretching before you. 

“Breathtaking.” His deep timbre catching your breath as your fingertips pressed against the plate window - your touch dusting the city. 

“I know.” The response was sassy - your eyes cutting over your shoulder as you turned again to gaze out over the city. The sinister chuckle stilled you as you felt his presence - your skin tingling at the anticipation of his touch. Your neck craned, bending for his attention, as he moved behind you - his solid frame pressing into you. His arms flexed as they framed your body - holding you against the cool glass as he rolled his hips into yours, “Don’t be a brat. I want to appreciate you.” His breath was warm as he kissed the tender skin. Your mouth fell open, ready for sarcastic words to slip out, but you moaned instead - feeling his hardened member against your cheeks as you rocked against him. 

“Good girl.” The words washed over you as his hands slid over your dress - the silk fabric crumpling at his touch. He palmed your breasts - his fingers brushing your nipples - the buds hardening under his touch. He pulled back, your body trailing as he turned toward the couch, stripping as he stood before the leather couch, waiting for you to follow. 

Your eyes danced over his naked frame - chiseled muscles flexed in the twilight - his dick, hard and heavy, against his thigh. Biting your lip was a reflex as you untied each string of silk, the soft fabric puddling at your feet - leaving your naked form bathed in the glow of electrified city. You stepped lightly - padding into the living room - your hips swaying with each step. Your breasts bounced as you stood before him, waiting for your reward. 

“Sit.” A single command as he sank to his knees, kneeling in front of your seated body. His hands pushed your knees apart. Cool air rushed over your warm center as he draped your leg over his shoulder - gentle kisses dotting your skin. Your eyes held his - the erotic gaze of the most powerful man kneeling before you, weak to your presence and pussy, left your heart racing - your veins filling with desire.   
He leaned forward, dipping his head low as he dropped a trail of a saliva against your slit. His eyes, hooded with lust, held yours as he pulled your hips down, inhaling your scent as his nose brushed your lips. The intimacy left you stilled as he licked a stripe against you - his tongue brushing against your glistening nub. 

“Shit,” You panted, breathless from Miguel’s attention. “Hmph,” He mused as he leaned back - a lone finger replacing his tongue, repeating the same slow, brushing motion. Your hips rocked at his motion, begging to be filled. Miguel teased you for the rush - your neediness was his ultimate aphrodisiac - his dick growing in pride as you cried for him, beg for him to fill you. “Use your words, mi amor.” He mocked, pinching your throbbing clit between two fingers - your body folding under his touch. 

“Appreciate me,” You humored him with your reply, his own words being used against him. His hand slid over your body, caressing every curve as his fingers trailed your torso - sliding into your waiting mouth. You held his hand as you sucked - your tongue caressing his digits as you moaned against him - your enjoyment leaving his dick throbbing. He pulled his fingers, salvia dripping over you, as he rubbed against your swollen lips. 

“Princess,” Your pet name stretched from his lips as he slid two fingers into your wet heat. You clenched at him - flushed with fullness - as his fingers curled inside you. Your eyes closed, overwhelmed with pleasure, as he added another finger, stretching you. His fingers teased you, scissoring against your velvet walls, as he pumped into you with a slow stroke that left you teetering on the brink. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, please,” The words spilled from your lips as your hips rutted against him - pulling him in closer, your knees closing around his arm. 

There had been a time when Miguel would have stopped, sliding his fingers out of you and leaving you whimpering and whining, just out of spite, but you had ruined him. He had never taken anyone past the permanent hotel suite at the Ritz - casual meetings bought with cash and cum, but you bled into his life and left him with a desire to shower you with the benefits that he never seemed to enjoy before you. His money was endless and so was his attention. He willingly spent it all on you. 

“Daddy,” You mewed - your orgasm dripping from his fingers as they stilled inside you - your chest rising and falling. Your skin sparkled with sweat and tingled with an afterglow that only Miguel could give you. He pulled you close - wrapping your limp legs around his waist - his hardened member rubbing against your sensitive folds as he held you, gently carrying you through the quiet apartment. Your head nuzzled into his neck as he moved towards the bedroom. Your lips found the softest spot beneath his ear - nipping and sucking as his grip tightened with each pass of your tongue and nip of your teeth. “Stop,” His hand came down hard against your naked thigh, a familiar burn radiating through your vibrating skin. 

His knees bumped the soft mattress as he dropped you haphazardly on the plush duvet. Your breasts bounced as you fell back, legs wide and pussy glistening as he hovered above you, staring at your soft frame. Your fingers traced the luxury linen and you found soft petals strewn across the blanket - your senses becoming aware of the room filled with fragrant flowers, vases and petals decorated the room.   
You sat up, eyes wide, as you scanned the elaborate decorations, “Baby,” The term of endearment rolled off your tongue as you took wayward petals, throwing them at his naked chest. You fell back in giggles. The mattress dipped under his weight - his knee pushing your legs apart as he hovered over you once more.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” The holiday greeting falling on deaf ears as he slid into you - the fullness, once again, taking your breath away.


End file.
